


Kind, Sober, and Fully Dressed

by probablestars



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex Tapes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10069586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablestars/pseuds/probablestars
Summary: “We should record this,” he breathes, sounding like it’s the best idea he’s ever had.  Chris stills, and Phichit beams down at him.  “It would be really hot, don’t you think?”Or, Phichit and Chris escalate quickly from taking suggestive Instagram selfies to recording themselves having sex, with bonus Feelings.  From a kinkmeme prompt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt in question: "Phichit loves taking pictures and Chris is a born performer. They decide to film themselves and watch it together." Thanks anon, this was fun to write!

It really only happens because Phichit and Chris don't know how to stop trying to one-up each other sometimes. They've made their way up to Phichit's hotel room after the NHK Trophy banquet, giggling and tipsy on champagne and the success of a silver and a bronze, respectively. Phichit has him back against the door as soon as it’s closed, dragging him down by the collar for an open-mouthed kiss.

It was only supposed to be a one-time thing after last year’s GPF, a bit of fun and consolation for taking the last two places. Instead they've been fucking for almost a year now, at shared competitions and during the off-season when they were in the same country, then more recently over Skype when they’d realized that only seeing each other naked every couple of months wasn’t enough any more. Lately Chris has been wondering if they should have the discussion about what they are to each other, but at the moment he’s too into this to want to stop for talking about _feelings_.

Phichit breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against Chris’s chest for a breath, then pulls out his phone for a selfie while dragging Chris back down into the frame. He goes willingly, kissing the other man's neck as the shutter clicks, surprising laughter from Phichit. “You know I’m still posting this, right?” 

Chris winks at him. “Make sure to tag me in it. This is absolutely the kind of content my followers expect.”

Phichit’s fingers are already tapping away, and Chris’s phone chimes an instant later with the notification. _Afterparty with @christophe-gc ;) #nhk #osaka_ Unsurprisingly, given how many followers Phichit has, there’s already several likes. He clicks the button himself and replies with a smiley of his own. It’s not like they’re trying to keep their...whatever this is...a secret, but that’s probably the most blatant they’ve been about it on social media so far. He looks up and smiles slyly.

“I should get a picture of us to upload too, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Phichit grins back at him. “Trying to upstage my selfies, Giacometti?”

“Only with your consent, of course,” he replies, making his tone as oily as possible, and is rewarded with Phichit’s bright laughter.

“That was _so_ sleazy, Chris. Of course I’ll help you upstage me, what else are friends for?” he’s already shedding his suit jacket as he speaks. “Let’s try to keep it semi-classy, okay? I don't want to give any of the Juniors that follow us heart attacks.”

The picture that Chris eventually posts is the only one of the lot that could even vaguely be considered classy. They’re both shirtless and cracking up, Phichit’s free arm wrapped around his back while Chris is fluffing up his hair. It’s _adorable_ , frankly, and since in most of the rest they’d been distracted with making out, it’s the only one that makes the cut. Phichit makes an approving noise as he watches Chris post it and tag him.

“That’s definitely going to blow mine out of the water,” he sighs. “I’m such a good person, how will you ever make this up to me?” His grin has gone filthy as he leans back against the headboard.

Chris tosses his phone on the bedside table and rolls over onto all fours, bracing himself over Phichit’s body. “Oh, I have a few ideas.”

He’s halfway down Phichit’s torso, small bites that barely show against his skin, when Phichit sits bolt upright, hands on Chris’s shoulders. “We should _record_ this,” he breathes, a mixture of lust and excitement coloring his voice, sounding like it’s the best idea he’s ever had. Chris stills, and Phichit beams down at him. “It would be really hot, don’t you think?”

That sunny smile is far too innocent to belong to someone who can suggest so blithely that they should film themselves having sex, but what the hell. It’s not like he’s _wrong_. The thought is...definitely arousing, and a frisson of excitement shivers through him. Chris is the farthest thing from shy about his body or his sexuality, but he’s not stupid either - he’s an international athlete who has to watch his reputation, and he’s never been with anyone he trusted enough to not take advantage of something like that, at least not who’d be interested in the first place. Phichit, though, he trusts - and he’s obviously interested. Phichit is still watching him expectantly, and he leans in to lick a long line up the side of his throat, ending at his ear with a whispered, “definitely hot.” 

He can feel Phichit shudder underneath him. “Let- let me set it up, it shouldn’t take long.” His voice sounds slightly strangled, and Chris sits back on his heels, pleased at the reaction. Phichit is usually almost entirely unflappable no matter what outrageous things Chris says or does - part of the reason Chris likes him so much - so seeing him even a little flustered is novel. He bounces back quickly though, digging a portable tripod ( _of course he has one of those_ , Chris can’t help thinking) out of his luggage and setting his phone on it, fussing with the settings. He makes a quick lap of the room to turn on all the lights - “Proper lighting is important, or we won’t be able to see _anything_ ,” he explains - before setting back on the bed, staring at Chris. He’s a little flushed, and a lot hard. Chris licks his lips, staring back, then turns to wink at the camera. 

Laughing, Phichit curls a hand around Chris’s neck and catches his lips as he pulls him down. He tastes like mint chapstick and the remnants of champagne and Chris chases the taste as he deepens the kiss, licking at the inside of his mouth. Phichit makes a soft noise underneath him, and Chris tilts his head down, sucking a series of hickeys into Phichit’s collarbone.

“Mm, Chris, come on,” Phichit grinds up against him, getting both hands under Chris’s waistband and squeezing a double handful of his ass, long fingers rubbing between his cheeks. Chris moans, pushing back into Phichit’s hands as he busies himself attempting to unfasten Phichit’s trousers, finally succeeding in getting them open.

There’s a tangle of limbs as they briefly separate, trying to remove the last of their clothing, and they’re both laughing when they finally manage it. Chris is pretty sure he’s still wearing one of his socks but is far past caring as he dips his head to kiss the inside of Phichit’s knee, slowly working his way inward. Phichit’s hands are curled loosely in his hair, tugging him gently but insistently onward. Chris obliges and licks a long, slow line from the crease of his ass to his balls, sucking on them briefly before tonguing at the head of his cock. Phichit is keeping up a not particularly quiet litany of moans interspersed with soft curses, his fingers tightening in Chris’s hair. Chris bobs his head, taking it a few inches at a time, and Phichit’s moans are well on their way to becoming shouts before he tugs at Chris’s hair, pulling him off.

“I don’t want this to be over yet, come up here-” Phichit lets go of Chris’s hair, gasping a little. Chris brushes his hand down over Phichit’s ass and rubs at it, trying to catch his breath.

“Do you want to fuck me, or the other way around?” Neither of them has a particular preference, and they’ve fallen into the slightly ridiculous habit of letting whoever placed higher decide.

“I think you should take care of me tonight,” Phichit says thoughtfully, opening his legs up wider. Chris smirks at him.

“I’ll make sure to thank you very thoroughly with my body, then,” and Phichit is laughing again, handing over the bottle of lube from the bedside table. He uncaps it as he mouths mindlessly at Phichit’s neck, slicking up his fingers and pressing one into him, breaching the resistance easily. He adds a second finger as Phichit’s hand brushes over his achingly hard cock, feather light strokes that do nothing but stoke the heat pooling in his belly.

“Ah, Phichit, you tease-” He tries and mostly fails to keep his tone light, three fingers pressed sloppily into Phichit’s body now, stretching him open as quickly as he dares.

“I’m ready, come _on_ -” Phichit rips open a condom and rolls it onto Chris’s erection one-handed, barely looking, the other hand occupied with pulling on Chris’s hair again as he sucks a mark into the side of Chris’s neck. He pulls away as Chris gets a hand under his knee, and Chris dips his head for another sloppy kiss that turns into mostly teeth as he pushes into Phichit. Phichit’s arms come up to wrap around him as he rolls his hips slowly, teasing, and Phichit writhes under him impatiently before getting his legs behind Chris’s back and digging his heels into his ass, goading him on. And well, Chris is only human. He snaps his hips, picking up the pace as Phichit moves with him. 

They’re both close almost embarrassingly quick, and Chris spares a glance at the phone. Not that they haven’t both been making a show of it already, but maybe...his hips still, and Phichit whines involuntarily as Chris slips out of him. “Let’s try something a little different,” Chris suggests, sitting back on his heels and hooking his arms under Phichit’s, pulling him upright. He nudges at his shoulder and Phichit hums in sudden understanding, turning to face the camera, his back against Chris’s torso and legs splayed to either side. Chris’s hands on his hips guide him back down onto his cock until he’s flush against him. Phichit’s thighs are spread, trembling slightly, his body on full display for the camera. Judging by the breathy noises he can't seem to stop making and the flush on his face, Phichit’s realized it. Chris wraps an arm around Phichit’s chest, holding tight, and gets his other hand around Phichit’s cock, fingers teasing at the head before taking it in a firm grasp. He carefully fucks up into Phichit’s body, jerking him off in time with his thrusts, thighs protesting the abuse even as he finds a rhythm. Phichit’s hands run restlessly over Chris’s arms, his head thrown back on Chris’s shoulder, and Chris bites gently at the base of his throat. Within a few strokes Phichit is nearly there, and Chris turns his head to whisper in his ear. 

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.” Phichit chokes on a laugh that deepens almost immediately into a throaty moan, coming hard all over Chris’s hand and his own torso. 

Phichit goes boneless and suddenly heavy after he comes, flopping forward onto his elbows, and Chris follows him up, grabbing hold of his hips and driving into him in desperate, jerky strokes before finishing with a cry. He manages a last tired wink at the camera as he licks the come off his hand, sucking on his fingers, the other still wrapped possessively around Phichit’s hip as his orgasm ebbs. 

He carefully eases out of Phichit, who gives a blissed-out moan against the sheets, then ties off the condom and tosses it in the vague direction of somewhere not the bed before falling carefully back on the pillows and coaxing the other man up next to him. “Not that I’m complaining, but where did that come from?”

“Ah, well,” Phichit shrugs from within the circle of his arms, still boneless and pliant, “you can only take so many suggestive selfies before a man starts getting ideas, you know?”

“You have the _best_ ideas,” Chris tells him firmly.

“I really do.” Phichit curls in against him for a moment, still catching his breath, then tilts his head up. “So…you want to watch it now?”

He really, really does.

It must show on his face, because Phichit grins. “I’m not getting out of this bed until tomorrow, so you’re gonna have to go get it.” Chris makes a face at him, then rolls up with a groan - that last position might not have been the smartest idea so soon after a competition - and grabs the phone off the tripod. By the time he gets back on the bed, Phichit’s managed to sit up, wincing just a little as he folds his legs under him. He hands the phone over and Phichit stops the recording, then hits play. It’s...something else, sitting next to Phichit while they watch themselves on the screen.

Chris watches himself giving Phichit one of the several impressive hickeys he’s now sporting. Phichit’s face is deliberately tilted toward the camera, playing to it, and the faces he’s making as the slightly tinny gasps echo from the phone’s speakers...well. He’s never regretted the unfortunate fact of the male refractory period more. He nuzzles at Phichit’s neck, who turns his head from the screen and uses his free hand to pull Chris’s chin up, capturing his lips in a sloppy, drawn-out kiss. Chris moans against him, more than a little frustrated with the knowledge they won’t be able to go again tonight, not after such a long day. Phichit nips his tongue and draws away with a familiar wink, turning back to the video.

“Mm, the angle for this bit is all wrong,” Phichit pouts, tilting his head to get a better look at the phone screen. “You can barely see any of the good parts.” Chris drapes himself over his back, squinting at it.

“Unless we’re involving more people in this, I don’t think we’re getting dynamic angles in homemade porn,” Chris remarks. “Of course, if that’s what you’re angling for…” he raises his eyebrows suggestively. Phichit just laughs and burrows back against him with a yawn, still studying the video.

“I bet I can get a better angle if I’m holding the phone while I fuck you,” he muses, and Chris smirks.

“Are you saying you’d be able to focus on camera angles and fuck me at the same time? I know I’m more distracting than that.”

“Camera angles are serious business, Christophe Giacometti,” Phichit mock-scolds. “This, though…” on the screen, Chris is manhandling Phichit upright, and Phichit licks his lips absently as he watches. “This part looks _great_.” They’re both quiet, watching, and Phichit makes a soft noise as Chris licks his hand clean on the screen. He hits pause, setting his phone carefully to one side, then turns in Chris’s arms and bears him down into the mattress before kissing him thoroughly, biting roughly at his lips. Chris only breaks the kiss for the necessity of breathing, and Phichit rests his head against his shoulder, gasping quietly. They’re both running on the dregs of adrenaline now, and Chris can’t quite fight a yawn.

“So I’d give us a +2 on our grade of execution overall,” Phichit says brightly into the silence between them, and Chris groans at the bad joke, pushing at Phichit’s shoulder with a lazy hand. “A stationary camera was a beginner’s mistake. We’ll have to try it the other way next time.” He yawns, then flops over next to Chris, still muttering something about better methods, his words starting to slur together.

This would probably be a good time to bring up the lack of explicit definition in their relationship, considering they’re both automatically assuming that there will _be_ a next time without having to even think about it - and have been for months, if he’s being honest - but fuck it. Chris can feel sleep sneaking up on him even as they pretend to argue about camera angles, and he blearily rolls over, slinging an arm over Phichit and pulling him in closer. They can talk about it later.

**Author's Note:**

> And then they wake up, watch the video again, and go for round two. Chris continues avoiding having to talk about feelings. THE END. 
> 
> Title is from Brooklyn Nine-Nine because I think I’m funny.


End file.
